


Perfect Stranger

by nessatheresa12121



Category: Incredibles (Pixar Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 17:21:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16896807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nessatheresa12121/pseuds/nessatheresa12121
Summary: Six years after Nomanisan, Violet's in university and encounters a hauntingly familiar face.Trouble is, she doesn't know exactly where she remembers him from. And that'll be her undoing.





	Perfect Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> Summary: Having survived the plane incident, Syndrome gets his revenge on the Incredibles in an interesting way.

At first, Violet Parr didn’t know what she liked about him.

There was something oddly familiar about Professor Pine’s pale square face, his large chin and relatively small features in comparison, the freckles and the striking blue eyes. His hair was dark brown, a messy mop, but Violet could’ve sworn she remembered his exact face, just with a shock of ginger locks instead. Did she go to school with him? Nah, he was too old—probably at least a decade her senior. She estimated him to be at least thirty, but still young-looking, and with a vibrant, youthful energy that radiated from his wide, exaggerated gestures and loud, excited voice as he lectured to the classroom.

Violet was majoring in engineering with a minor in journalism studies, and Pine was her Introduction to Thermodynamics professor. A lot of the course was theory, but there were also labs, too. As it was an upper-year course, the class sizes were far smaller, and Pine was quite hands-on with his students. Especially Violet. She noticed early on his odd interest in her, the way his hand lingered on her back when he was looking at her work over her shoulder, the way an uncanny electricity seemed to pass between them whenever their eyes met.

She was so conscious that she’d known him once, and it endlessly frustrated her, not being able to remember from _where_.

Then again, maybe she was overthinking things. Maybe Professor Pine just had “one of those faces.”

Throughout the first weeks of the semester, Violet was wary of Pine. Well, she was wary of pretty much everybody; that was who she was. But it exasperated her, not being able to recall where she’d seen his face before, and feeling that eerie connection with him kind of creeped her out, too. Nevertheless, slowly, she warmed up to him. He had a kind face, and was a kind person, and he was so genuinely enthused about thermodynamics (heck, he was the only one in the classroom who could claim _that_ ). He seemed to appreciate that Violet, too, had a genuine love for engineering. Of all the twenty students in the class, he gave her special attention.

She hadn’t had a boyfriend since breaking up with Tony Rydinger in her junior year of high school, and she hadn’t really wanted one, either. But as she continued through the course with Professor Pine—and that weird electricity between them failed to fade with time—she started to wonder. He was just a great guy, always helpful and nice, and not that bad-looking either, and hey, ten years isn’t that big of a gap. She was twenty, way into adulthood, after all.

But her feelings toward Pine were just an idle fantasy. She never expected him to reciprocate. For crying out loud, she thought with a self-deprecating smirk, the professor probably didn't even know her name.

On November twenty-three, all that changed.

 

Class had ended for the evening. As the other students filed out of the lecture hall, Professor Pine, idly examining a sheet of paper, called out, “Uh, not you, Miss Parr. Would you mind sticking around for a minute?”

Halfway out the door, Violet turned around, raising a skeptical eyebrow and clutching the straps of her messenger bag. She headed back into the room, hearing it slowly get quieter as the other students trickled out, leaving it empty except for them. What could he want? Was there something wrong with her work? No—she knew there wasn’t. Her schoolwork was excellent, and she was pretty confident of that.

After the room had emptied, Pine put the paper down on his desk and gave Violet his full attention, offering a smile. “Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble.”

“Then why am I here?” she asked, realizing too late that the words sounded petulant. She thought about adding a _sir_ , but that sounded pretty stupid to her. Who calls a professor “sir?”

Pine reached down onto the desk, picking up the paper he’d been holding a moment ago. He held it out towards her, and she took it, squinting. Quickly, Violet recognized it as her own work—a paper she’d written a few days prior. At the top was scrawled, in red pen, a large “100.” It wasn’t her first perfect mark in this class, either. Her third, actually.

“Look, I don’t wanna sound like a schmuck, but you’re honestly the best student I’ve had in four years of teaching,” Pine informed her, smiling kindly. “I’m… look, I’m _beyond_ impressed.”

Despite herself Violet basked in the praise. “Uh, that’s really nice of you, professor,” she said awkwardly, one finger toying with the messenger bag strap around her shoulder.

“Nah, look, I’m not just saying this stuff to be nice—you’re really good. A prodigy, even!”

“So what’s this about?” she asked, trying to keep a respectful tone.

Pine sat down on the leather desk chair behind him, looking up at Violet. She wasn’t shallow, but she had to admit, he cut a really nice figure in that dark emerald suit and red tie. Nobody would’ve faulted him for showing up to classes in jeans and polo shirts, but Professor Pine always dressed nicely. “I’ll cut to the chase. I’m in need of a research assistant for a project I’m doing next summer, and, well, you’re the best candidate I’ve come across. It’s a paid position—a _well_ -paid position,” he stressed with a knowing grin. “No minimum-wage grunt work.”

“Exactly how well-paid?” she asked, still slightly wary.

“Twenty-five bucks an hour,” he informed her. “Probably somewhere around thirty hours a week.”

Violet tried to disguise her shock and pleasure. That was a better salary than she’d ever had. Currently she was flipping burgers at Dino’s Fun House, a kiddie establishment. What Pine was offering sounded way better. So far.

“Can I ask what I’d be doing to assist you?”

He shrugged. “Eh, just about anything. Write up reports, help me conduct experiments, answer my phone… you’d be my girl Friday. You’d get valuable research experience, though. That’s the main thing.”

Sounded pretty good to Violet. And the prospect of spending the summer doing anything _but_ flipping burgers at Dino’s? Heavenly.

“I mean, I’ll have to think about it,” she demurred instead of offering a solid answer.

“Oh, for sure. Take your time. It’s not for another six months that I’m gonna start my project, anyway. Right now I’m just in the planning phase. But I would be delighted to have a student as dedicated and bright as you assisting me, Violet,” he said intently, sounding very honest.

She wasn’t a sap, but she couldn’t stop the jolt of heat that ran through her when Professor Pine used her given name. His high praise didn’t hurt either, and she felt flattered, thoroughly buttered-up.

“Thanks for this opportunity,” she told Pine, warily smiling at him. “It sounds pretty good. I promise I won’t take long to think about it.”

“Oh, it’s okay, Violet,” he replied. “Take all the time you need.”

 

She took a week. The next time she was in lecture, she stayed behind after class and informed Pine that she’d be honored to work with him.

His smile unnerved her. It was sharklike. “That’s awesome!” he said enthusiastically. “I look forward to it!”

“So do I,” she smiled, thinking about that $25 an hour.

 

The summer months came quickly, and Violet informed her boss at Dino’s that she had another opportunity lined up. She was promptly fired, which stung a little, but hey, who cares? There were a billion jobs exactly like Dino’s out there. And besides, she had a better job now.

Her class in thermodynamics had ended in December, and she hadn’t seen Pine since then. She wondered whether he'd have changed any. Dressed in a purple T-shirt and shorts in the blazing summer heat, she headed across the campus on Monday, June the ninth. She entered the building Professor Pine had directed her to visit, the chemistry and experimentation building, It was a large building made of dark steel, with skylights in almost every room, allowing for a pleasant natural ambiance throughout the place.

She headed through the halls to room 505 and hesitantly opened the door. There was Pine. He’d shorn his head in the months since she’d seen him. Damn, he looked great with shorter hair. The thought flittered through her mind before she could do anything about it. He was sitting behind a desk, shuffling through papers, and his head lifted as he heard the door creak with her entry.

Pine’s mouth curved into a huge grin, and she felt suddenly embarrassed at the idea that he was so happy to see _her_. “Violet Parr,” he exclaimed. “In the flesh.”

“In the flesh,” she repeated, giving a hesitant but genuine smile in return. “So, what’s on the agenda for my first day?”

“Fun stuff,” he said. “And for the next few months, too. Just a whole lotta fun.”

 

They worked together through the summer. There were times when it felt like _work_ : she’d answer Buddy’s phone (because Professor Pine now wanted her to call him Buddy), or she’d type up a lab report from one of their experiments, or she’d do other clerical work for him. But they did quite a lot of experimentation and research, too, and due to her love of engineering principles, that didn’t feel like work at all. With Buddy, she was permitted to use equipment she’d never have been allowed near otherwise. He encouraged her to be as hands-on as possible, directing their experiments with him giving the orders, but Violet doing the practical work. For a young engineering student, it was heaven.

And she was getting _paid_.

She felt him getting closer, physically as well as emotionally. Through the summer, though she tried to keep seeing their relationship through as professional a lens as possible, it was undeniable that they were becoming friends. And perhaps more. Buddy’s hand lingered longer at her back or shoulder than ever. And eventually she got bold, because even though she was initially shy around people, Professor Pine wasn’t _people_ anymore: he was Buddy. She felt so comfortable around him. He never said a mean word about anyone, he was completely trustworthy and gentle, he possessed a bright and brilliant mind, and his enthusiasm and cheerful attitude were infectious. He was almost _too_ nice. Almost.

So yes, Violet got bold. _Her_ hands started to linger, too.

She didn’t know whether she was in love, because she didn’t know what that felt like. As a teen, she _thought_ she’d been in love with Tony, but those superficial butterflies weren’t what she felt with Buddy. This was something warmer, deeper, more trustworthy and firmly-rooted.

Maybe it was love. It sure was nice, whatever it was.

 

One night, Buddy asked his research assistant to stay in the lab a little later than usual. He wanted to conduct a nighttime experiment. She agreed without hesitation.

There had been a time in Violet’s life when she would never have done anything in the evening or on the weekends, because that was her time to practice hero with her family. Now, though, that was a distant memory. Violet’s mom, dad, and oldest brother were still actively doing hero work, but Violet had shifted away from that lifestyle. She was a cerebral person, not a violent one, and she eventually got tired of all the punching and explosions and bruises. At seventeen, she’d announced to her parents—who were disappointed but accepting—that she was going to take a year off from hero work to figure out if she actually wanted that life. A year quickly turned into three, and now that she was at uni, she barely spoke to her family anymore. She felt bad about that, but things change. That’s how life works.

So she accepted Buddy’s invitation to perform an experiment at night, because she wasn’t busy, because she wasn’t Invisigirl anymore. Times had changed. She was entirely a homebody now.

Wearing jeans and a turtleneck because it was an unusually cool night, Violet entered the sciences building and headed to the room where she’d meet Buddy. It was a large experiments room with glass windows all around, giving outsiders a view into the entire space. Inside were several machines with various properties, and Buddy, looking amazing in casual jeans, dark dress shoes, and a black long-sleeved shirt. He was sitting on a rather flimsy-looking chair at a wooden desk, bent over a piece of paper with a complex robot design upon it. He had a pencil in his hand and was biting the eraser as he scanned the paper, probably deciding which part of the design he should amend.

For a moment Violet just stood in the doorway watching him with a smile on her face. She knew that once she announced her presence, he’d look up, first surprised by her entry, then giving her a huge and honest smile. No matter if it had been five minutes since they last saw each other, he was always so happy to see her again.

She cleared her throat a moment later, and Buddy did exactly what she’d anticipated.

“Violet! Man, I didn’t notice you coming in. Come over here and take a look at this for a second, will you?”

Violet went over to his desk, peering over Buddy’s shoulder. Her hand lightly brushed over the area just below his shoulder. She was still nervous about being so touchy, but she liked it when _he_ was touchy with _her_ , so why not return the favor? And Buddy didn’t seem to mind. Not at all.

“Check this out,” he said, running a finger across the intricately-drawn design on the page. “I took the robotic design you and I worked out earlier, and I added a few modifications of my own. What do you think?’

Violet peered at the picture, squinting suspiciously. A round robot with five legs, each ending in a pincerlike claw. Something seemed awfully familiar about it…

“I added an extra leg, to help with balance,” he explained eagerly. “You think it’s good?”

She shook off her weird misgivings. “Yeah, I think it’s great. Great job as always. I really like the sensory display—it’s so interactive.”

“Yeah, I think the military will go bonkers for this one,” he said proudly. “Of course, that’s all due to your help.”

“Uh,” she demurred, shifting her feet and looking at the ground. “I wouldn’t say that. You did almost everything.”

“B.S.!” he exclaimed, getting up from his chair and facing her. “You helped me with the designs, the test builds, everything. You’re just as much responsible for my work as I am.”

“Uh…” she said, feeling herself turn bright red. No matter how old she got or how many years passed, simple flattery could always get her to blush.

“Hey, Violet…” In his most familiar move yet, he reached forward and gently tucked her black hair behind her left ear, exposing her face more clearly. “Don’t shortchange yourself, huh? Don’t be modest. Without you, I would never have made at least half of the accomplishments we’ve achieved this summer. You’re magic.”

Her stomach turned into a deep pit and she barely managed to giggle awkwardly, “Stop it, you’re gonna make me swoon.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?”

She caught herself wishing his hand had lingered when it brushed against her cheek.

He did her one better; without warning he leaned down and kissed her, and she momentarily forgot that breathing was a possibility. 

His hand came up and brushed against her face again, very gently holding her in place, and his mouth was gentle too, and she had no basis for how to react.

He withdrew, seeming frantic. “Christ, man, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. It was an impulse. Can we forget that happened?”

Jesus, he was cute.

Despite the fact that her stomach felt like it was gonna fall out, she said, “I don’t want to forget.”

Buddy’s eyes widened further in surprise, but she leaned forward and initiated, this time. She was soft and slow in her movements, but deep, kissing him insistently, because that was what her body wanted her to do, and hell, she’d _wanted_ this. It only took a moment for him to kiss back, hands moving to her waist, where they ghosted too light for comfort. Her own hands came down and pressed his harder into her body, and before she knew it his hands were all over, and so were hers, and suddenly he was the one in control here, tongue slipping into her mouth and knee slipping between her legs and _Jesus_. He bit her. She’d never have expected that from someone like Buddy, but he did bite her, teeth nipping at her bottom lip, and she found she didn’t mind that at all. She flared with arousal.

They stumbled backward, Violet unsure which of them had been the cause. She was pressed into the sink counter that was behind them, her lower back painfully pressed against the edge, but then his hands were on her hips, lifting her up, so that she was sitting on the counter. But she was only balanced on the very edge, and if Buddy’s hands hadn’t remained firmly on her hips, she wouldn’t have stayed up for long. Her thighs were on either side of Buddy’s hips and oh god. They didn’t break the kiss, not for one second. But Buddy was moving between her legs, pressed against her, grinding hard, and she couldn’t hold back a moan against his mouth. This wasn’t exactly how she’d expected him to be. Almost rough. But it wasn’t a bad thing. Not in the least.

He broke the kiss only to start biting her neck—not hard, just hard enough to hurt—and as her fingers moved through the hair of the back of his head, she remembered that this room was bracketed with windows, so that anyone moving through the hall could see them.

“Hey—the windows,” she managed to say, her voice choked.

He didn’t stop. “Let ’em look,” he growled, words vibrating into her neck. There was something disquieting in the way he said it. He ground against her, harder, hands on her hips pulling her closer against him so she’d really feel it, and she actually let out a (pretty embarrassing) yelp. But despite that, she squeezed her thighs closer around him, wanting to feel everything harder.

And that night, Buddy fucked her absolutely senseless.

 

Their bed was makeshift, a green sofa in an abandoned side office with broken blinds on the windows, and around midnight, Violet fell into the dim haze of almost-sleep. She’d come… how many times? Eventually she lost count. It seemed like Buddy was eager to make her come, to claim her, and holy shit did he know what he was doing. She kind of wanted to marry him now. At the very least, she wanted to do it again tomorrow.

Sometime in the middle of the night, some delightedly smug words worked their way into her dreams. She wasn’t sure whether she’d really heard them or not.

_I fucked their daughter. Man, I actually managed to do it. This is the best long con in history._

She thought she’d heard Buddy say it.

Then again, she had also once thought she’d known him from somewhere, and he’d turned out to be a perfect stranger. Emphasis on the perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a dream I had. I don't normally ship these two, but the dream was so intense that I had to write it down.


End file.
